Meet with Roland.

“Fancy goin' back to our room? I think I can spare a couple'a hours until this fookin' war drags me away from you again.” Kara says, pulling you close and kissing you.

“A-As tempting as that sounds,” you slur. “I'm not sure that you can. You might want to get back to the main hall.”

You tell her about Einar's magically engineered appearance before the nobility, and the demands he posed to Donald.

“For real?” Kara says, exasperation creeping into her tone. “That mad bastard! I'm sorry Edward, I need to see to this.”

Alone, you decide to head back to your quarters

-

“Hello, Edward.”

You open the door to find Roland's slipped into your rooms. The hulking beastfolk is seated before the fireplace.

“Roland.” you sigh.

“How's that for greeting your cousin?!” The Shark says, exasperated.

“Help yourself to a drink or two. What's mine is yours.” you quip, noticing the sell-sword's supping from one of the finest bottles you brought up from Itheria, another sitting drained beside him.

“That's better.” Roland chuckles.

“You know, it's dangerous for us to meet like this. Anyone could walk in, a servant, Kara.” you tell him, leaning against the back of another chair for support. “We don't officially know each other, not this closely.”

“Ah, forget all that, cousin!” Roland hiccups. “I stumbled onto something on the way back from the Fens, something that could earn us quite a bit of favour with the Old Man. Only it's gonna be dirty, and involves killing a few Beathans? You in?”

The Shark offers you the bottle.